


Book VII: The Chariot

by DarkeShayde



Series: The Arcana: A Retelling [7]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Accidents, Break Up, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fortune Telling, Heartbreak, Kissing, Love Bites, Magic, Masks, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Nightmares, Other, Plague, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 17:50:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16372247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkeShayde/pseuds/DarkeShayde
Summary: A nightmare wakes Julian and Shayde helps him get back to sleep. The next day, Julian and Shayde spend their time shopping and crashing a play, but something is off with the Doctor. And why does he keep saying that they need to talk?





	1. Nightmares

The sound of a door shutting rouses me to wakefulness, throat dry and head muggy from sleep. Julian is still asleep beside me, so he wasn’t the one leaving. I climb out of bed and walk sleepily in to the kitchen, glancing around. I don’t see Mazelinka anywhere. It looks like she must have been the one that has left for the day already. Dawn is just brushing its fingers against the horizon, little slivers of light performing morning stretches. I settle down at the table with a sigh, staring down at the wood grain as my brain tries to catch up to my body. Ever since Asra left on his latest trip, my life has been a whirlwind of change, questions, and discovery. Nothing is certain anymore and I wonder if it ever had been. All I know is that everything I have known is shifting. Hopefully towards something better. Somehow though, I know deep down in my heart and soul that the transition won’t be without a cost.

“N- no- please-” What was that? It takes my foggy brain a few seconds longer than it should have to realize that the voice is Julian’s and he sounds distressed.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-” A loud thud sounds from the bedroom as something heavy hits the floor. I hop to my feet, hardly thinking, and pull the curtains back. Julian drops his head back to the floor with a groan, tangled in the sheets and face as white as a ghost lily. He lifts his hangdog gaze to me, and gives me a wry smile, sweat beading his brow. I can’t hide the concern I feel so I know he must see it on my face.

“Shayde … did I wake you?” He asks, as if trying to pacify me. “I … sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” I ignore the needless apology and reach out to grab his arm, helping to untangle him from the bedsheets. This close, I can feel the tension in his body. He’s trembling, not quite meeting my eyes. Like he thinks maybe he can hide it from me.

“It sounded like you were having a nightmare.” I prompt gently. Julian looks at me with a wide eye. He is trying to decide how honest he wants to be with me. And here I was hoping we were passed all that now with everything that has happened.

“Did it? That would be … because I was. Having a nightmare, that is.” He answers reluctantly. Julian swallows and drops down on the edge of the bed, slumping as he rests his elbows on his knees. The very picture of exhausted defeat. My heart goes out to him. I have truly fallen for this man and I don’t even know how it happened.

“Seems silly in the light of day. Or, er … dawn. It wasn’t real … Was it?” His expression is despondent for only a brief moment, before he attempts to recover himself. “Ahem. Why are you out of bed?”

“You’re trying to change the subject, Julian. I heard you talking in your sleep. And you’re still shaking.” I point out, matter of fact. He shakes his head with a forced smile.

“What, shaking? Nonsense, I’m a doctor. My hands are as sure as death and taxes.” I can see he is trying to brush this off, so I reach out, taking one of his hands in my own to confirm my suspicions. He is indeed shaking, though not as much as he had been when I helped him from the floor. Whatever he dreamed, it’s shaken his cool resolve. He tries to tug his hand away, but I don’t let go. If he is going to try and lie to me, he should probably practice some. He is truly awful at it, not that I want him to get any better.

“I told you, it’s nothing. It wasn’t real, I have no reason to be upset.” He says. Who is he really trying to convince? I say nothing for the moment and settle down on the bed beside him. He’s all nerves, jumping a little as I sidle closer. My intention is to simply be a calming presence and help him see that I am here for him, no matter what it it.

“I can’t hide anything from those piercing eyes of yours, hm? Don’t know why I bothered in the first place.” Julian musses. I don’t know either, but decide against voicing that at the present. “… Do you believe in forgiveness?”

“Forgiveness?” I repeat. Where is this coming from? Whatever he dreamed about … it must have _really_ shaken him. He looks like a spring too tightly coiled, all tension points. Like the slightest nudge would send him to pieces. It hurts to see the normally bouncy personality now so down and indulging in such self-hate.

“Do you think … that even truly heinous things can be forgiven? Or are there some things you don’t get to come back from?” Julian asks quietly, almost whispering the words. I know what he is talking about now. The Count’s murder … that _he_ supposedly committed. Could I forgive him for that? Could Nadia or Portia? And if we did, could he even forgive himself of this crime should it be proven to be true?

“You can come back.” I tell him finally. Maybe it’s not the answer Julian wants to hear … or the one I really want to give. There are some things no one can forgive. That’s the painful truth … But you can’t stop living your life because of it. You can’t stay frozen forever. You have to move on, to learn from past mistakes so you don’t make them again. Where I don’t know what he can or even needs to be forgiven from, I have to show him that life goes on. His life can go on.

“You can always come back.” I say again with more force than before.

“If I could just remember … then I would know. If what I’ve done is something unforgivable.” Julian says.

“What will you do if it is?” I ask. That seems to give him pause. Unforgivable in this case leads to Julian hanging from the Countess’ gallows at the start of the Masquerade. He knows this as well as I do.

“I- If I can’t make it right … then I’ll take whatever punishment I deserve. Without question.” Julian replies firmly. While I admire the resolve and determination, I would rather not see him hang. Julian smiles at me then.

“Well, isn’t this a dour conversation.” He says. “Ahh, don’t mind me, Shayde. It’s just the sleep deprivation talking. Five cups of coffee and I’ll get the pep back in my step.” The tension still hasn’t eased from his shoulders, but if he doesn’t want to talk about it … I can’t exactly force him, as helpful as getting it all out would be. Still, there are other things I can do to help. I move to sit against the wall at the head of the bed, and tug Julian to follow. I pull him to rest on top of me, lying on his stomach and head resting against my collarbone.

“Oh, erm- are you … is this what we are doing now? Well, alright.” He doesn’t even try to argue or pull away, just drops his head back against my chest and closes his eyes. I run my fingers through his auburn curls, and feel his muscles shift, loosening just a fraction. Not nearly enough.

“Julian … you have to relax.” I coax.

“Right. Sorry.” He shifts again, long legs sticking off the end of the bed as he stretches them out. I can feel him take a breath, lips parting to speak again. I cut him off before his first word is even out.

“Julian, you need to sleep.” And he slumps again, lips twitching up in a smirk as he gazes through messy bangs up at me. Julian seems to have a hard time letting others help or take care of him. He fought Mazelinka pretty much the whole way last night and now he is doing the same with me. He is going to have to learn to let me help.

“… Thank you, Shayde.” He says. Well, that is a start I suppose, but he is still fighting to not fall asleep.

“Thank me after you get some sleep.” I reply. Julian blushes just slightly and closes his eye again. We both drift back off to sleep like that, a mess of tangled limbs and unspoken worries carried on til morning.

Sunlight dapples my face as a little bird chirps a cheerful tune on the windowsill, rousing me … It seems the bird is my only company. Julian’s gone, a depression in the bed the only trace he was ever there. I get up and look in the kitchen. Not here either … I’m alone in the house. Did he slip away after I fell asleep? Is he coming back? Why did he leave in the first place? I slowly drop to sit at the table, confusion gripping me. Things were going well, weren’t they?

“Oh.” Julian’s voice suddenly breaks into my thoughts. “You’re, er, already up. Listen, Shayde. We … need to talk.” Oh no. Nothing good ever comes from that phrase. I eye him warily, folding my arms across my chest as if that will protect me from the words I suspect are coming.

“Alright.”

“Good, good. But, er, not here. Let’s go to the market, shall we? More places to talk.” Then the usual bravado comes back along with his signature grin. “After you, my dear.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes and instead make my way out of Mazelinka’s cozy little hut.

Julian leads me away from the outskirts of the district and deeper into his part of town, an arm hooked in mine, almost as if he is afraid that I will disappear at any moment. We eventually emerge from the twisting alleys into a side street bustling with market-goers, noisy and very crowded. It’s not much like the market near my shop. Instead of dedicated stalls, it looks like a regular street has been converted. It is a haphazard labyrinth of and merchants toting bags, baskets or hauling carts filled with wares to be sold or traded. The noise is about the same though.

“Shayde … About that talk-” Julian begins, before cutting himself off. “Ah! Wait, I nearly forgot. First things first. Mazelinka left a shopping list for us. Just a few ingredients to pick up. Pickled tingleberry … Charred newt flesh … Articulated goosewart … She uses them in her folk remedies. Most effective pep-up soup I’ve ever had. And I’ve had a lot of soup.” I recognize those ingredients, but not for folk remedies. It reminds me of what I had seen last night in Mazelinka’s house with the pot she used.

“Does Mazelinka practice magic?” I ask. “These are all spell ingredients.” Julian’s brow furrows at my words. It is plain by the look on his face that he holds little or no stock in magical practices. The Doctor is a man of science through and through.

“What? These things? Nonsense. They’re ingredients for medicines. Effective ones, too.” He says with a dismissive wave. I decide to let the matter drop for now. Talking about magic or spell ingredients is clearly uncomfortable for him.

“Well, in any case, they shouldn’t be too hard to find. They’re fairly standard. Uhm …” I trail off.

“Yes? Something wrong?” Julian asks me. I shake my head, glancing down at the list once more. It’s just …

“Where would you go to buy something like this around here?” I question. Finding things I need in the market near my shop is one thing, but here … ? I don’t see anywhere that looks like a magic shop. Or even a street-side lizard vendor.

“Ahhhh. Glad you asked. I’ve got a guy.” Julian replies with that insufferable grin on his face. That sounds rather suspicious, if I’m being honest with myself. I allow some of my distrust to be heard in my next query.

“A guy?”

“Mhmm. A guy.” He echos with an arched brow now accompanying the grin. “It’s important to have guys, Shayde. People you can rely on … You deserve to have someone like that, too. Someone who can be there for you. Someone I can’t be. So, Shayde, about that talk-” This time someone else interrupts the Doctor.

“Jules, that you? Ain’t seen you in the city fer years, y’old dog! What’re you doin’ here, eh??” Julian smiles at the stranger. He must have known her before. When he wasn’t a fugitive from the Palace. Wanted for murder. By the stars! What am I doing?!

“Tilde! Good to see you. How’s the wife? Still having those headaches?” He asks. He can’t remember if he killed the Count, but he remembers this one patient who had headaches? Strangely selective of his memory. The woman who called out to us scoffs, waving her hand vaguely as she shoulders her leech sack.

“She’s doin’ fine. Still talkin’ ‘bout moving to Prakra. What’re we gonna do that fer, they don’t got a leech market there …” The leech vendor is still talking as she walks away from us. Meanwhile, Julian takes my hand, pulling me further into the crowds. Merchants and shoppers alike continue to call out to him as we pass. But apparently, his mind is elsewhere.

“So, listen.” He begins for the third time since we left Mazelinka’s place. “We need to-”

“Watch out! Comin’ through! Biscuits, get back here!” A tiny urchin barrels passed us, chasing a ragged looking dog down the street as the dog howls. They brush against me as they run, catching me by surprise and knocking me off balance. Time seems to slow as I fall backwards, heading directly for a rickety fruit cart, piled high with apples. The collision is inevitable. And then, I hit a broad chest, and the scent of leather and musk washes over me as we both tumble backwards. Julian hits the ground with a grunt, arms wrapped around me to break my fall. I’m touched that he would come to my aid like that.

“Oof! Shayde, are you alr-” He pauses for a beat. “Ohhhhh no-” We both watch the cart beside us wobble, an apple in the corner of the stack threatening to break free. It falls and hits the ground in front of us, rolling to a stop when it hits Julian’s boot. The rest of the cart is clearly about to come crashing down after the lone apple.

“Ohhh, that’s going to hurt-” He mutters. “Watch out for-” Julian rolls us, blocking the collapsing cart from hitting me with his body, and lets out another grunt. When the collapse is over, he is on his feet right away.

“Are you alright? Nothing hit you, did it?” He pulls me to my feet without waiting for an answer and dusts me off, hovering over me like a worried mother hen. I am getting so many mixed signals from him and it is starting to get to me.

“Now isn’t this a mess … Looks like I’m buying a fruit stand today.” He rummages around in his cloak, and then pulls out a nondescript burlap bag that jingles with the click of coins. A lot of coins, judging by the sound of it.

“Er, do you take Galbradine doubloons? Or Hjallen drakr?” I stare in fascination as he pours a pile of foreign currency out in front of the harried fruit vendor. There must be a small fortune contained in that bag.

“Well, that takes care of that … Free fruit! Come and get your free fruit everyone!” He calls. A ravenous crowd descends on the bruised fruit , quickly clearing the streets of any last remnant. An easy enough clean up. Julian takes my hand, and pulls me out of the throng and into a side street, then begins to check me over again for injuries.

“Julian …” I begin.

“Mnhmrhm, yep? You weren’t hurt, were you? Everything still were it should be?” He isn’t even listening. Instead he keeps talking. “I’m sorry about that. Should have mentioned the streets can get rowdy. Ah! I know, I’ll make it up to you. This next place is sure to knock your socks off. Nice little tea house, just down the way. We can sit there, and … talk. It’s cozy, you’ll like it.” Julian barely pauses for breath as he speaks, as if he is worried I’ll interrupt him or leave before he says everything. He leads me away from the market, and off deeper into the city, my hand still clasped in his.


	2. Behind the Scenes

After a leisurely stroll through the still unfamiliar streets, Julian’s eye lights up and he nods to a tall, narrow building, stylish and weatherbeaten. There are no windows that I can see. No discernible doors, only panels of fresco cracked like eggshell illustrating faded scenes of romance. This must be the place. It looks just like the kind of place Julian would hang out at.

“So it’s still standing.” Julian musses aloud. “I used to come here all the time, back in the day. It was an irresistible spot. High ceilings, great ambience … little booths, tucked away. And underground. You could lounge around for hours, just talking. And we, ahh, I’ve been meaning to say, we do-” Julian pauses as we duck under the shadow of a groaning, rotted beam, down a meandering stairwell to the underground level. This building looks like a strong wind would Knick it right over and I briefly wonder if we should be going in.

“-we do need to talk.” He finishes. We do? I don’t know if I like the sound of that. Plus he has said it repeatedly now. I eye him warily as he yanks the stubborn iron door open for me, bowing over one arm held against his waist to usher me in.

“After you, my dear.” Julian says. The light inside is scarce. I can barely make out the faded fabrics in bold patterns that hang at angles from the ceiling. There is a slim walkway winding through a maze of dusty, dramatic curios and curiosities. I wonder if Julian thinks it’s subtle when he peers around each corner. He doesn’t need to be really … I can hear it too. From somewhere nearby, tones of lilting conversation with a hint of dramatic music. I can sense that there are many people in this building. Though we haven’t run into anyone yet. Julian peers at me out of the corner of his eye. He looks a little sheepish.

“Well … huh. This is very unlike the way I remember it. The place must have gone under … that’s a shame. They used to serve this smokey tea that I haven’t been able to find since.” Julian informs me as we continue on. As he leads me through the close corridor, I try to discern if there is any kind of theme in the objects around us. A wisely smiling, hammered metal moon. Huge bolts of fabric, sagging over a high-backed chair. Flashing spears, an open chest of tin bells, and raggedy feathers. It seems to be a very random and eclectic assortment of items that are all totally unrelated to each other. I can’t make heads or tails of it all.

“Now it seems to be some kind of an … oddities … artifacts … antiques? Emporium.” Julian wonders, echoing my own thoughts. “How embarrassing. It is still cozy, though.” One of his hands lands on my hip, pulling me against him. His expressively arched brow almost makes me laugh, until he looks away. His grin is gone in an instant.

“… Now what have we here?” He asks. I’m pretty sure he is talking to himself, but I glance over to where he is looking. Just ahead of us is a speckled, cloudy mirror. Hanging over it … Is a doctor’s mask that undoubtedly resembles his. He walks over and snatches it on sight as if to hide it. It is too late if that is the case, as I have already seen it. Tucked under the mirror, I spot boots not unlike the ones he’s got on. Curious.

“What’s this?” Julian asks again, still not really speaking to me. “It’s not a real medical mask, is it?” He examines the mask with great interest, turning it in his hands, tapping it, peering into it’s gaping eyes. I find it amusing and somewhat endearing the amount of focus he puts into something that arouses his curiosity. Plus, he talks more if he is distracted.

“We used to stuff the beak with … herbs, camphor, roses, you know, when we had them … I think this one’s just a statement piece.” He chuckles, flipping the mask around and pausing to process it’s significance. I wonder why he has not put it on yet. I thought that would be one of the first things he would do with the mask.

“Do you want to put it on?” I question, my curiosity getting the better of me. His jaw drops as he considers the mask in question. I can almost see the wheels turning in his head, weighting out the pros and cons of trying on the mask. He glances back at me.

“If you’re suggesting that I miss the one that I tossed to the eels …” Julian begins. “Let me just tell you how much it _pains_ me that you caught me doing that, but you know …” He runs his fingers over the long beak, under the curve. Caressing it with careful detachment. Like he does miss his old mask, but doesn’t want to admit it.

“It doesn’t bother me half as much in black.” He concludes. “Maybe I _will_ put it on.” I indulge him with a nod of encouragement. I like that this mask doesn’t have the red glass eyes that the other one did. The soulless depths of those red disks still bother me if I think back on it. Back facing the mirror, he fastens the mask about his head.

“Hmm. Well, it doesn’t smell like any of the herbs _we_ were using.” He musses. “Ha, how funny. Who would have thought that anyone would ever wear something like this for the aesthetic? I may not have contributed to the world of medicine, but I was making waves in the world of fashion. How does it look?”

It looks mysterious, very handsome, and masculine. I’ve never seen anyone wear one for fashion though. The fluid line of the beak cuts across mid-face, drawing my eye to the artful shadows of his mouth and jaw. I distantly hear Julian hum, as if awaiting the answer I am too distracted to give at present. I wonder how you would go about kissing someone in one of those. Judging my Julian’s next words, it must show on my face.

“You think it’d be hard to kiss with one of these?” Julian asks, eye glinting with mischief. “Imagine kissing with two of them.” He chuckles indulgently. I watch his throat move, something else coming to mind. I step forward and plant an insistent kiss on his neck, just under his ear. His laughter dies, but the grin lingers as one of his hands comes to cradle the back of my head.

“Ah, you’re so cute.” He says. “I might just melt if I spend any more time with you.” He leans back against the mirror, drawing me in to rest my hands on his chest. As I brush my lips along his neck, he tilts his head and weaves his fingers through my hair along my scalp … Holding me close as my breath ghosts over the sharp swell at the middle of his throat.

“If you’re going to bite … do it along here.” Julian all but whispers. The hand at the back of my head guides me to the thick hair behind his ear, the long muscle there. I brush my nose over his coarse sideburns, kissing his jaw. I might bite … but not yet.

“Hehe, you don’t have to be gentle with me.” I feel my heart rushing forward as he wraps his arms around my back, drawing me in. His other hand guides the base of my neck as he maneuvers my mouth to lock with his. Finally. It’s a lingering kiss, making my chest feel lighter and lighter the longer it lasts … His lips move against mine as if it frustrates him to part. But I’ll need to breathe at some point. A reluctant huff from his nose when we do part.

“…Sweet.” He mutters, lips still dangerously close to mine. Having him so near, still able to taste him, is making it hard to think and form words properly. What he says barely registers, only enough for me to repeat it in question.

“Sweet?” It’s harder to tell what he’s thinking with that mask on, but … All truth be told, that’s not saying all that much. However, there’s no mistaking the swipe of his tongue as it peeks out to taste his lip.

“Too sweet.” The look on his face is positively sinful. I flush at his words, indulgence creeping up my neck, where is fingers move fondly to curl under my chin. Too sweet, huh? Challenge accepted. I brush his hand aside and dive into his neck to catch his pallid skin experimentally between my teeth. This close, I can hear his breath catch in pleased surprise. When his fingers tighten at the back of the neck, I dig in deeper. I feel the shiver run up his back.

“Mmm, that’s more like it. I love it. Here.” He pulls at his collar, and I scrape my canines along the long connection from his collarbone to the base of his jaw. There I dig into his neck, kneading the rough skin there between my teeth. When I release the pressure, he gasps before he starts to speak again.

“If you’re worried about marking me … don’t be.” Julian says, still very breathless. Marking? I peek discreetly at the wet spot gleaming on the side of throat. A blush of swollen maroon, oval in the shape of my teeth and already fading quickly. It’s hypnotizing to watch.

“Oh don’t take that personally, it’s the curse. You’ll have to do more than _that_ to leave your mark on muuaahhhhh …” Julian trails off as I take his words to heart. I release my teeth from the lobe of his blushing ear … to watch a tiny pearl of blood well up from the darkening dip where my eye tooth sank in. I’ll be completely honest, this usually isn’t my thing, but I can’t get enough of his reactions.

“Yesss, that’s it, don’t be shy. Give me something to remember you by.” Julian groans. That gives me a moment’s pause. Had I heard that right?

“Remember me by?” I ask. He huffs, wrapping one arm around my shoulders to whirl me around and pin me to the mirror. Either he is bothered I noticed what he said … or maybe bothered he let that slip out in the first place.

“Did I say that?” Julian wondered aloud. It was the _way_ he said it … what did he mean? In that mask, I can’t tell. Well, I guess I’ll just have to fix that. I reach past his neck, brushing my fingernails along the hair at his nape, and release the cord, knotted behind his head.

“Oh, something wrong?” He asks, thrown slightly but the sudden shift.

“Is it wrong that I want to see your face?” I retort. When he put on the mask, a stony shadow passed over his eye. Though he looks good in the mask, I didn’t like that shadow one bit. Also, if he wants to hide from me, he’ll have to try harder than that.

“Nothing wrong with that.” Julian replies. One hand still at my scalp, he wraps the other arm around my shoulders and brings me into a kiss. No doubt it’s easier this way. Natural even, when his practiced lips caress mine. I can almost feel something blossoming in my chest. Something I want very much to keep feeding so that it grows. When we part, his rumbling, low laughter still vibrates against my chest.

“It looks strange on me, anyway. This one _and_ the one I wore back then. Shame on me, letting something so unpleasant come between us …” A look crosses his face, and his grin fades. His arm slips from around my shoulders as his gaze shifts to look around in concern. I’m wondering why when a miserable wail rips through the air. What in the … ?

“You heard that?” Julian asks, voice a whisper. I did. As his gaze darts side to side, I find it interesting that he had to ask as that wail was not quiet at all. It’s also interesting that he snatches the mask automatically out of my hands and quickly dons it again. I am surprised enough that I don’t react right away.

“Humor me and stay close.” Curling one hand around mine, Julian holds a leather finger to his lips. Carefully, we skulk in the direction of the mournful wailing, bowing under feather boa and stepping over quite a few empty bottles. A set of heavy velvet curtains hangs before us, parted only by a thin beam of red light. Just beyond … is the source of the awful noise, heaving beside a shredded daybed, under the tinted spotlight. An actor, dressed in sheer scarlet robes, wearing a porcelain half mask of mascara-streaked anguish.

“Wait up in my room? On _my_ birthday??” The actor on stage cries with over-the-top motions emphasizing his every word. “What do you expect me to do all night in here? Clomp around in my hooves? Beg the busboy for table scraps? If I can’t disgust anyone doing it, what is the point?”

“Oh my god.” Julian says with a grin. “That’s fantastic, it sounds just like him.” I turn back to the stage. Is that supposed to be the Count? We seem to have stumbled on some sort of dramatic reenactment and it is quite the production. By the sound of it, he has not been given a very flattering part. The theater is packed to the rafters with an enthusiastic crowd. Even in death, making fun of the Count appears to be popular in this part of town.

“Well, I’m glad to see that the arts are flourishing. A renaissance may have begun since I’ve been away.” Julian begins before he pauses. “But … if this is Lucio on his birthday night, then … you don’t suppose this is a show about the murde-” A couple of this things happen all at once. The audience laughs at something I missed while listening to Julian, a sandbag drops between us with a powdery thud, and the curtain starts to close. At the same time, the ankle of Julian’s boot is snagged by a moving rope, dragging him off his feet and into the air. When I can bear to look again … he is suspended upside-down over the actor onstage, too stunned to do anything but hang for a beat. Then, thrashing like a worm on a hook, he knocks something free from his boot and into his hand. A knife. Grunting, he swings at the torso to grab hold of the rope at his ankle, and just manages to sever it. And then he falls, splayed and groaning in the Count’s silky lap.

“… Doctor Devorak! Here to cure my boredom!” The fake Count says. Shrieking laughter and applause comes from the audience, while Julian looks around swallowing visibly. The moment he looks away from the crowd, back to the actor in Lucio’s mask, I know he is going to go for it. This will either be very entertaining or very embarrassing to watch. I steel myself and peer out. With a bark of sharp laughter Julian rises onto his knees, looming over the effigy Count. Well, as tall as he is, who doesn’t he loom over?

“Muhuhuhu hello my poor, poor patient. The clock strikes thirteen for you tonight.” His overacting matches the actor’s perfectly. The audience probably won’t suspect a thing. As he speaks, Julian yanks back his glove and lets it go with a snap. The actor portraying Lucio falls back, gasping dramatically.

“I’ve come to end your suffering. Enjoy that gasp, it will be your last.” Julian goes on, not missing a beat.

“What are you going to do? Smother me with your thighs?” The actor asks. Julian sneers down at him, but goes along with it. The question makes me wonder exactly what kind of play we accidentally just crashed. Literally.

“For the hundredth time, no.” Julian growls out. They tussle on the daybed, feathers flying everywhere. The audience is delighted. After some hair pulling, Lucio’s actor rears back, draws a wobbly sword from behind the daybed, and takes a wide fighting stance. A housefly could probably knock him over with a stance like that and the mental image makes me giggle.

“Give me a real fight, man on man! We’ll see who takes the last gasp.” He challenges, waving the foil sword unsteadily at Julian.

“If it’s a fight you want it’s a- oh.” A stagehand emerges to present Julian with another sword and scamper back out of sight. “It’s a uh, it’s a fight you’ll get! En Garde!” Wobbly sounds resound to the high rafters, and the crowd goes wild.

“Not bad!” Julian says, flashing his signature grin. “I might just give you a chance …” The sword flies easily from the grasp of Lucio’s likeness, and he collapses backwards over the daybed, Julian’s boot planted on his stomach. “… to speak your last words. Choose them carefully, Lucio.” The last words where once again growled out.

“Is it money you want, Doctor? Fine things? We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m very generous, you know, and I’ve always liked you best! What’s mine is yours!” The fake Count rambles on.

“This may surprise you, but some of us don’t kill for the money.” Julian swings the foil sword in the vicinity of the actor’s neck. “Some of us kill to make up for not doing it sooner.” Vaguely, I wonder where those words came from. Just how accurate is this reenactment? As Julian stares deep into the other masked face, he brings the tip of the sword down … Just a few inches shy and the crowd goes wild. After a convulsion and a wet sounding gurgle, and the actor goes convincingly limp. Julian steps back, looking a little green.

“Oh … well. That was … easier than I thought it would be. Uh. Now I … now what?” Julian says, looking a little lost as to what he should do next.

“Guards! Hang him!” The stagehand calls from somewhere offstage. Julian looks momentarily surprised, before he grins again.

“… But not like that.” Julian states. Always has to have the last word. Julian whirls his coat in a dramatic arc, dashing off the stage. Meanwhile, I turn and sneak back the way we came in, the cheers of the crowd licking at my heels.

As soon as I’m outside, my back hits the wall opposite the iron door. My heart is drumming rapidly. People watching something like that … it surprises me. Should I wait? Should I go back in? It takes a minute to figure out what I want to do. The moment I press off the wall however …

“Shayde, there you are. What a trip, I’m still one foot in the meta realm.” … Julian stumbles out of the theatre, panting and looking a little disturbed. It seems he was affected by the performance he just put on as well.

“Well, no one seemed to think it was really me.” He says when I don’t respond. “Was the neighborhood always this skeptical? Probably …” My pulse is still racing and I know I must look bothered. One look at my face and his grin falters.

“So that wasn’t what I had in mind. Let me try this again.” He grabs one each of my hands, looks me deeply, forlornly, in the eye. It’s like he needs to make eye contact and hold it to be able to convey how serious he is.

“Shayde, I’d like to head over to the Raven for a bite to eat. If you’d be so forgiving as to join me? My treat, or course. And after that … A … nice walk down to the docks. How does that sound?” Julian asks. His smile is back in place, though not as big as it had been before. A meal doesn’t sound bad … and the price is right. More importantly, I’m curious about his behavior today. If this means he’ll finally tell me what’s been on his mind, I’m definitely in.


	3. Dock Talk

Julian walks ahead of me in the sand, a tall black silhouette against the rocky shore. We had stopped at the Raven and had a nice, though quiet meal. Julian seemed to be lost in his thoughts the whole time. There’s a tension to him that’s been building all day. It feels like it’s about to crash over both of us. Shiny black boots stop at a rotting wood pier. All around us is silence, broken only by the sea. Eventually, Julian takes a deep breath, lips parting to speak as he stares out into the endless, fathomless sea.

“Feel that breeze.” Julian asks. “A nice night for sailing, don’t you think?” He shakes his head, eyes dropping to stare down passed the dock. It is like the calm before the storm. I can feel the world around us holding it’s breath, waiting for the hammer to drop.

“Shayde … listen. We, uh. We really need to talk. We’ve, uh. Needed to talk all day. I guess I was just enjoying myself too much to take the plunge.” Julian says. As ominous as those words could be, I find myself smiling happily.

“I had fun today, too.” I tell him, more than likely interrupting him. I’m not sure where Julian is going with this. He seems to tense and distant … but I really enjoyed my time with him today. It wasn’t a conventional outing, but getting to see him in the city, a smile on his face … that felt good. It was a thoroughly wonderful day.

“Really now?” Julian asks, looking over at me in something like wonder. “Even the part where I destroyed a fortune of fruit? Or accidentally crashed a play?” I can’t suppress the giggle and frankly I don’t want to.

“Even then.” I answer. If I’m completely honest with myself … I haven’t gotten to see much of the city outside of my neighborhood. It was quite exciting, getting to be a part of the community. Seeing what things could be like. What my life could have been had my circumstances been different.

“The people in town seem to love you.” I observe. Julian nods thoughtfully.

“They’re good people. Hardworking, dedicated. But covering for me in putting them in danger. I know they’d take any chance to get back at the Palace. Can’t fault them for that. If anything happened to them because of my mess … I’m a disaster waiting to happen, Shayde. And … I don’t want that disaster to happen to you, too.” As he finishes speaking, Julian drops down to sit at the edge of the pier, feet dangling over the water. The heels of his boots skim the surface. I sit next to him, our shoulders bumping together. He leans towards my touch, like he craves it. Like he wants to be closer all the time. After a quiet moment, he lifts his hand and points to an island, a black mass against the night sky on the water’s horizon.

“See that island?” He asks. When I nod, he goes on. “It’s called Lazaret. It’s where the city sent their infected, during the height of the height of the plague. A perfect monument of my failures. Always visible from the shore, always reminding the city how much it suffered. Every death, every body burnt in those pits, is another mark against me. And there are so many marks … I don’t want to drag this out, Shayde. This … whatever it was, whatever it could have been. It has to end. Before it’s too late for you. I’m only going to end up hurting you somehow. I know it.” Now I understand what he is doing, what he has been getting at all day.

“I’m not afraid of pain.” I reply, quietly and calmly.

“You shouldn’t be so cavalier with your own safety, Shayde.” Julian admonishes, giving me a halfhearted glare. I roll my eyes at that. He’s one to talk.

“I could say the same to you. What you’re doing isn’t healthy.” I retort. Since I tend to be empathetic, I am starting to be bothered by his attitude of self-hate. No one is perfect, but only you can be you. And you should try to be the best you possible.

“I’m only trying to protect you-” He begins, but I cut him off.

“I don’t need protection.” I state firmly. Julian’s expression falls as he speaks next.

“It’s all I can offer you.” He says. “I’m not a good man, Shayde. The things I’ve done … I did something unforgivable. I must have. Where else does this pit in my stomach come from? I won’t have you come down this path with me. You deserve better than that.” None of the reasons he’s given me so far have anything to do with our relationship. ‘I’m dangerous.’ ‘I’ll hurt you.’ ‘I don’t know what I’ve done.’ ‘You deserve better.’ None of them tell me how he feels about me. I know it hasn’t been long, but …

“Do you want me?” I question plainly. Bluntness, especially concerning emotions and feeling, seems to throw Julian off, if only for a moment. Then I am more likely to get answers out of him. Julian starts, nearly falling forward into the sea, and catches himself at the last second.

“I- what? Did you …” He stutters, giving me a wide eye look. By the stars, he is adorable when he gets flustered like this. “I must have misheard you, Shayde.”

“I asked if you wanted me.” I repeat, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. I am going to get the answer out of Julian if I have to ask him over and over again. I know that I am more stubborn than he is.

“Ohhhh. So, erm, I didn’t mishear you then.” Julian says with audible awkwardness. “That’s a strange question to ask when I’m breaking up with you, isn’t it? Not that it’s really a breakup. We never- we never had anything to start with. Just … a night or two stolen from time.” Julian swallows hard, body still full of tension. It looks like he’ll spring away from me at any second. Much like a frightened rabbit.

“Do I want you … do I want you? That’s a tough question to answer. I want you to be safe. I want you to stay out of this whole mess. I want … It doesn’t matter what I want.” Julian says. A nice attempt, but not quite right.

“You didn’t answer my question.” I say. Julian grins at me and I know he is aware of what I am doing.

“Tenacious, aren’t you? It’s one of the things I like about you. No matter what happens … You keep moving forward. You’re like this great bright light, drawing me towards you. I just can’t help myself. If I was a strong man … If I wasn’t so weak. But I just can’t stay away from you.” Julian bites his bottom lip, looking defeated. He barely looks at me when he admits, softly …

“I want you. I know it’s only been a short time … but I feel like I’ve known you for years. Is it because you put me at ease? That’s hard to do, you know. I want to be around you. I, erm. Can’t stop thinking about you. Even when you’re not there. That’s the problem, I’m torn to two, Shayde. My brain tells me to leave, but my heart keeps pulling me back.” He gives me a very small smile, craning his head up to the luminous moon, and sighs. Now I am getting somewhere.

“If I think about it … I can see the path our story would take. So why …?” He slumps down a little more, trying to hide himself in the hunch of his shoulders. The space between us seems to grow wider, though there is no physical change.

“If I walk away from you now, will I stay away? If I drop my guard, will I find myself walking right back to you? That’s what makes me selfish. Because whatever we could have, whatever possibilities … They’ll only lead to ruin. That’s the kind of man I am. There’s no future for us that doesn’t end in pain for you.” Julian says.

“Then, just for tonight …” I begin. “Can’t we forget about the future? You’re here. I’m here. We’re together, at this moment. Under the same moon.” I don’t know what the morning will bring. Whether Julian and I have a future. I don’t want to think about it. Those are worries for another time, another day. I just want tonight. For now … that has to be enough. Julian isn’t the other one that is having a hard time staying away.

“Can I be that selfish?” Julian asks, as if asking for my permission. I am more than willing to give him permission if he wants it, but I want _him_ to make the choice.

“Do you want to be?” I counter.

“………Yes.” He reaches up, gently pulling me down to meet him. Our lips brush together once, light and fleeting. Then again. His hands tremble as they grip my shirt, one sliding to press against the back of my neck. I can almost taste the longing and I wonder in the back of my mind if he can taste the same from me.

“… One more.” He whispers. Our lips meet once more. Julian makes a muffled noise against me, mouth parting as a shiver runs through him. I happily return his attentions in equal measure. I press closer and place a hand on his cheek.

“That’s the last one-” And he presses up again, and again. Each time, a whispered ‘one more’, a promise that it’s the last. And each time he comes back, a little more desperate than before. Touches a little needier. He doesn’t want to let go, and neither do I. But eventually, one of us has to part for air. Julian swallows hard, eyes staring passed me to some distant point. He looks … Sad. Desperately sad. I wish he would look at me.

“You … being with you is the first thing I’ve wanted for myself in a long time.” Julian swallows hard a second time, shaking his head like he can cast off whatever dark thoughts plague him. He stands up and holds out his hand to me, still avoiding eye contact. I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet, before dropping my hand.

“… I’ll walk you home.” He says. Julian slides his hands into his pockets as he leads me off the beach and back into town. Every so often he opens his mouth to say something, then makes a face and closes it again. Eventually we reach the shop, and Julian turns to me with a note of finality in his voice. It breaks my heart a little more to hear it.

“Well … here we are. At your shop.” He announces somewhat needlessly. Neither of us move for a moment. “… End of the line. When I came to Vesuvia, I was seeking answers. Finding you … That was a rare treat.” He reaches out, hand hovering over my shoulder. Unsure of whether he’s allowed to touch me anymore. Then he shakes his head, and leans forward to press a kiss on each cheek, lips lingering just a second longer.

“Thank you, my dear. The time we spent together, however brief … It mattered to me. I won’t forget it.” With a whirl of his cape, he’s gone, footsteps echoing down the side street than fading away, too. I turn and head into my shop after I’m sure he is gone. The shop smells like cinnamon when I walk inside, a thin trail of stream wafting down from upstairs. Every lantern is already lit, casting the shop in warm flickering light. Asra pokes his fluffy head down the stairwell, grinning brightly when he sees me standing there.

“Back from your jaunt at the Palace? Welcome home, Shayde.” My expression gives him pause. “I recognize that look. What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I reply shortly. Asra has been gone since this whole situation started. I have almost as many questions for him. Everything has changed around me. My own view of the world has shifted. I wonder if I am just now learning how things really are. All is different except for Asra. Somehow he is still the same. But he gives me another smile, kind and carefree, and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“Then you don’t have to talk about it. Come upstairs, I made that tea you like. You look like you could use it.” Asra says. I like almost all teas so I’m curious which one he is talking about. I trudge upstairs, feeling heavy after such a long outing. My thoughts turn back to Julian, disappearing into the darkness, and my heart aches for him. Will he really try to face this thing alone? All to spare my feelings, to keep me safe? Something smooth and cold slithers over my feet as I reach the top step. When I look down, Faust is staring up at me. I bend down to scoop her up, and then settle at the little table in the corner, watching Asra bustle in the kitchen.

“Shayde … Faust tells me you’re been spending time with Ilya. Julian.” Asra says carefully, as if trying to gauge my reaction. The sound of his voice breaks into my musings and causes me to focus on right now.

“… I was.” I answer.

“Was? Ohhhhhhh. No wonder you didn’t want to talk about it. Say no more, I know exactly what happened. He decided what was best for you and wouldn’t listen even when you told him he was wrong, right?” Asra asks. “Probably right after jumping head first into a relationship with you. Featuring at least one dramatic speech. Knowing him, probably more. Well? How did I do?” … That’s exactly what happened. I’m stunned.

“How did you …?” I start to ask.

“I know Ilya.” Asra answers before I can finish my question. “The only thing he loves more than drama is his own suffering. And he’s determined to chase both.”

“What should I do?” I inquire.

“Hmm … what do you want to do?” Is the answer. “That look in your eye tells me you already know. You want to go after him, right? I can’t stop you. I just … want you to be careful. Who knows? Maybe you can shake him from his ouroboros of self-flagellation. Unlikely, but stranger things have happened. Just don’t hurt yourself in the process.”

“Oh! That reminds me.” Asra says. “Do you still have the deck I left you?” I nod, pulling the cards out from my pocket. They seem excited to be near Asra again. Like they missed him. He passed his hand over them, and when he moves away, they’ve vanished from the table. Tension ebbs from his shoulders, some shadows easing from his eyes. He looks … relieved.

“You … you’re alright, right?” He questions me. “Nothing strange happened with the deck …?” He shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes as he clears his thoughts. Before I can question what strange thing he was worried might have happened, Asra speaks.

“… You’re home.” He concludes. “I’ll make us some dinner.” Asra slides languidly to his feet and start to clink around in the kitchen, humming idly to himself. I stare down at the mug cupped between my hands, left alone with my thoughts. Whatever happened today, whatever will happen tomorrow, however this whole story plays out … Somehow, I know that I’m not done with Julian yet. In fact, I mean to make sure of it.


End file.
